Apr 3, 2021 15:58:59 GMT -6
The skies grew pitch black as the lone reaper slowly strut along the battered path of dirt and stone, the moon being the only celestial body present that night. Tonight was a fateful encounter for him, and it was one he was waiting countless lifetimes for. All of the holding back, all of his pain, every second he spent in the afterlife of Purgatory would finally pay off; tonight, he would at last put an end to the dark Seer who started it all: Dolores Esmeree, su mamá.
Dressed in his absolute finest pitch black coat, slacks neatly pressed and cuffs delicately made, one would mistake him to be visiting an elegant event when it was quite the contrary.
Oh mi dulce niño…
Salem gritted his teeth as the forign words began to ring in his head. It was a trademark sign that she was near, as she did this to every last one of her Nobles, as well as her natural born children. Instinctively, the somber reaper began to build up his power to a level he hasn’t dared touch in ages. In truth, it was his normal level of magical power, only held back by his years of dampening and limiting it. The earth beneath his feet cracked with each passing second as slowly, but surely, his dark eye began to turn crimson red, piercing straight through the night.
He spoke no words as he stopped his strode, standing in place and waiting for the inevitable, and sure enough it did come. Walking through the dark of night, approaching him from the front was a tall figure who’s odd eyes akin to his blitzed the night bog. Salem, feeling his anger rise, quickly reached into his blazer and pulled out both a long pistol, designed with gold and undead silver, as well as a long sword, forged by his own hand during his skint in the undead realms. Holding it in his hands now, with full intent to slaughter with it, he couldn’t help but think back to the past, to the girl he met in the Afterlife… a ghost by the name of Mary, and with her, his promise to never resort to violence. Frowning, he kissed the hilt of the blade before returning the point to the ground.
Dolores was now in plain sight, both of her cursed eyes beaming with power. She was, similar to himself, dressed elegantly, in a dress so long it touched far below the ground. The color of it was bright red with mixed black and golden highlights. His mother’s hair was let down, showing it’s true length far past her backside. Like mother like son. A rare sight, but one he didn’t care about. Looking at her hands, he saw again, similar to him, a long pistol armed on one hand, but in the other, what he presumed to be a bunch of bullet shells. His eyes narrowed as he adjusted his grip on his blade.
“Salem! My oh my how you have grown…” Dolores said with enthusiasm dipped in every word. She cooed as she smiled warningly, Salem raising his firearm up in response.
“I’m not here to talk, Mother,” Salem replied, coldly. He aimed the barrel of his gun at the head of his parent, and before she could say another word, he pulled the trigger. The sound of brass clinging against steel silver rang through the air as he watched with a reddened eye the bullet leave the barrel and spiral towards his mother. Dolores smiled as she too watched death approach her, seemingly more than happy to embrace it.
The bullet reached as far as three mere millimeters away from the center of her lobe before she suddenly vanished, and the bullet along with it. A shocked Salem quickly raised his blade up in defense, scanning the area for the missing Seer. “Where are you, you kniving bitch?” Salem asked in a low voice, but he would get no verbal answer as the wind around him began to shift. Turning around, he was too slow to realize the ever-present gleam of gold as he rose high in the air. Completely unable to move even an inch of his being, he was brought to a stop high above the trees. Salem, even in silence, still did his best to funnel his hate towards his situation through his eyes, staring the now widely smiling Dolores down with bloodlust.
As he stared, he saw deep into his parent’s soul, and as he expected, only pitch black essence stared back. Not a hint of grey nor a sliver of white; this woman was an embodiment of dread and sorrow.
“You are very correct my dear boy.” Dolores responded, blushing as Salem’s eyes widened. “Oh come now, why so surprised, hmm? Por favor no me digas… you forget I can read minds dear? Truly, pathetic.” Gritting his teeth, he closed his liquor eye and began to channel his energy in only his crimson one. Patiently, Dolores waited on the ground, extremely curious as to what her son would do next. Blood began to seep down the airborne reaper’s cheek as he overexerted himself, his entire body beginning to glow with the same red hue. The bone in his mouth clinked together as he forcefully broke through the invisible hold on him and let out a blood curdling scream. The ground-bound seer’s confidence quickly faltered as she felt a foregin energy in the area. Her face now one of anger, she raised her pistol up towards the enraged reaper and fired several times. Salem, blade in hand, easily dispatched every single bullet before beginning his quick descent back to the ground.
Again, he felt the air shift. Looking behind him, the bullets his dear mother fired were beginning to stop themselves and follow him; telekinetic shells. He knew that if even one of them pierced his skin, the others would find their way into his fleshy prison as well. Grunting, he tightened his fist as he fell and raised it towards his chest. In that instant, the ground again cracked with fireceness only equal to an earthquake by Mother Nature herself…
“SCABRITHE!” Salem shouted with all his might, the ground now radiating a ghastly purple and red color. Dolores licked her lips.
“I have heard stories about this one, but to think you tamed it…!” Soon after her words and his, a rotting gigantic hang erupted from the crust, reaching out to catch the reaper from his death free fall. Without batting an eyelash, Dolores threw down her weapons and extended her arms towards the giant hole in the earth, her hands and fingers spread out. Quickly and softly, Dolores began to speak in a language that wasn’t Spanish nor English, and as she did, the rupture from the dead began to close. Watching from the air, Salem cursed under his breath as he recognized the words the Mother Esmeree was muttering. “Erit clausa” were the only two words he needed to understand.
Gripping his long sword cruelly in hand, he flung it towards Dolores with great speed and might, it in turn barely missing the acutely focused Dolores, again. Salem’s face was now one of concern mixed with horror. How was she so narrowly avoiding his attacks? Obviously, there was something that he didn’t know or account for, and it might be his downfall. The reaper plummeted to the ground as the seer forcefully closed the fissure in space with her nigh-unrivaled mental prowess, completely severing the giant’s hand in the process. Landing with a bone breaking thud, Salem screamed out in pain. It was a miracle he was still alive after a fall from such a height, but the worst of things was yet to come.
With blurry vision, he from the ground lie helpless as the severed gigantic hand began to fall on top of him. He felt a decaying, burning sensation on his body as a loud thud could be heard. Salem gasped for air, his ribs breaking, piercing through his own body. Sound left his ears as his vision began to blacken. Underneath the mass of flesh, tears swelled in his crushed eye, and blood out the other. He didn’t want things to end like this; it was barely a fight. He had to avenge himself, and everyone else his mother hurt, he couldn’t die like this… but there was nothing he could do about it.
Groggy moans escaped his lips as he desperately tried calling for help. In both broken voice and thought, he called for the only ones he could. He cried for the undead… who were too withered to aid him. He pleaded for Mikaela, who would most likely look down on him doing so, but nevertheless he attempted, and was met with fruitless efforts. As a last effort, he even tried to plead for the immortal wolf girl to aid him, or at the very least free him from his pain. No longer being able to produce sound from his mouth, he lay under the weight of the giant’s hand until it began to fade away, back into the realm from where it came.
His neck cracked as he slowly repositioned his head in the newly formed crater he was now in, coming eye to eye with an approaching Dolores. The woman effortlessly jumped down into the crater, landing softly as she did so, but not before hovering above him; a pointless display of cruel authority.
She landed in her heels with daint movement and crouched down beside her broken and bloodied son, a warm smile smooth on her face.
“It is time for your next lesson, dear,” Dolores explained to Salem. While he couldn’t hear it physically, Dolores ensured he could hear every one of her words mentally. His eye widened with grief as it echoed in his head, the words spoken right before she betrayed he and his father the first time all those years ago. Dolores reached out, placing a cold hand on his cheek as she drew herself closer. He closed his eye. “Salem, dear, look at mother.” Dolores softly demanded. He had little choice as he felt his eyelids being forced open. The seer raised an eyebrow, and at that, pain was felt as instantly, his eyelids were ripped from his face. “Better… is that not all better? Now I know my sweet little boy is paying attention to his mama.”
Leaning over to his forehead, Dolores gave Salem a small kiss before returning to her feet. With a single hand and some telekinesis, she raised Salem up off the ground, what remained of him falling off his form as he looked at the dark woman. The Esmeree lady widely extended both arms, Salem slowly drifting towards her embrace as she did so. He was given a warm, affectionate hug as he bled out, his streaks of red staining the attire of Dolores. In his head, he had an epiphany; that’s why she wore such vibrant colors, so the blood wouldn’t taint her fit.
Dolores kept her arms locked around her son in embrace for several minutes, leaving Salem in a state of pain and anxiety, before whispering in his head one final time.
“Remember that I love you, your father loved you, and we. Always. Will.”
What tears he had left fell from his face. Moments later, he felt the tendons in his body rip apart as Dolores used her strength to rip him into two. Both parts of him then lay on either side of the bloody woman, gore as far as the eye can see.
Salem was only conscious for mere moments, too far gone to be affected by his mother’s vile telepathy. For just a few moments, his thoughts were his own, and his own only.
‘Xia… it appears my song reached it’s conclusion far before yours.’
~ ~ ~
Salem opened his eyes, quickly sitting up in a cold sweat, streams of blue and red running down his cheek from his eyes. He wiped them away as he looked around himself. He was in the Purgatory District, near the graveyard he just recently built. His shirt was off and he was laying down on his blazer to rest for the night. He felt himself extremely weak... and extremely cold. The lone reaper sighed as he subconsciously rubbed his torso. "It was all a dream, huh..." Salem groggily stated to himself, yawning.
Looking towards the sky at the full moon, he began to lie back down on the cold ground, using his blazer to wrap around his bare form for warmth. As his eyes closed, he could hear the ever so faint laughter of his mother in the distance, leaving him perplexed on the status of his "dream", and semi-terrified of the things the lie in the night.
Further away, hidden in the cover of the trees under the moon, a hooded onlooker with sharp odd eyes smiled as they disappeared back into the flora.
"Sweet dreams, Salem."
Dressed in his absolute finest pitch black coat, slacks neatly pressed and cuffs delicately made, one would mistake him to be visiting an elegant event when it was quite the contrary.
Oh mi dulce niño…
Salem gritted his teeth as the forign words began to ring in his head. It was a trademark sign that she was near, as she did this to every last one of her Nobles, as well as her natural born children. Instinctively, the somber reaper began to build up his power to a level he hasn’t dared touch in ages. In truth, it was his normal level of magical power, only held back by his years of dampening and limiting it. The earth beneath his feet cracked with each passing second as slowly, but surely, his dark eye began to turn crimson red, piercing straight through the night.
He spoke no words as he stopped his strode, standing in place and waiting for the inevitable, and sure enough it did come. Walking through the dark of night, approaching him from the front was a tall figure who’s odd eyes akin to his blitzed the night bog. Salem, feeling his anger rise, quickly reached into his blazer and pulled out both a long pistol, designed with gold and undead silver, as well as a long sword, forged by his own hand during his skint in the undead realms. Holding it in his hands now, with full intent to slaughter with it, he couldn’t help but think back to the past, to the girl he met in the Afterlife… a ghost by the name of Mary, and with her, his promise to never resort to violence. Frowning, he kissed the hilt of the blade before returning the point to the ground.
Dolores was now in plain sight, both of her cursed eyes beaming with power. She was, similar to himself, dressed elegantly, in a dress so long it touched far below the ground. The color of it was bright red with mixed black and golden highlights. His mother’s hair was let down, showing it’s true length far past her backside. Like mother like son. A rare sight, but one he didn’t care about. Looking at her hands, he saw again, similar to him, a long pistol armed on one hand, but in the other, what he presumed to be a bunch of bullet shells. His eyes narrowed as he adjusted his grip on his blade.
“Salem! My oh my how you have grown…” Dolores said with enthusiasm dipped in every word. She cooed as she smiled warningly, Salem raising his firearm up in response.
“I’m not here to talk, Mother,” Salem replied, coldly. He aimed the barrel of his gun at the head of his parent, and before she could say another word, he pulled the trigger. The sound of brass clinging against steel silver rang through the air as he watched with a reddened eye the bullet leave the barrel and spiral towards his mother. Dolores smiled as she too watched death approach her, seemingly more than happy to embrace it.
The bullet reached as far as three mere millimeters away from the center of her lobe before she suddenly vanished, and the bullet along with it. A shocked Salem quickly raised his blade up in defense, scanning the area for the missing Seer. “Where are you, you kniving bitch?” Salem asked in a low voice, but he would get no verbal answer as the wind around him began to shift. Turning around, he was too slow to realize the ever-present gleam of gold as he rose high in the air. Completely unable to move even an inch of his being, he was brought to a stop high above the trees. Salem, even in silence, still did his best to funnel his hate towards his situation through his eyes, staring the now widely smiling Dolores down with bloodlust.
As he stared, he saw deep into his parent’s soul, and as he expected, only pitch black essence stared back. Not a hint of grey nor a sliver of white; this woman was an embodiment of dread and sorrow.
“You are very correct my dear boy.” Dolores responded, blushing as Salem’s eyes widened. “Oh come now, why so surprised, hmm? Por favor no me digas… you forget I can read minds dear? Truly, pathetic.” Gritting his teeth, he closed his liquor eye and began to channel his energy in only his crimson one. Patiently, Dolores waited on the ground, extremely curious as to what her son would do next. Blood began to seep down the airborne reaper’s cheek as he overexerted himself, his entire body beginning to glow with the same red hue. The bone in his mouth clinked together as he forcefully broke through the invisible hold on him and let out a blood curdling scream. The ground-bound seer’s confidence quickly faltered as she felt a foregin energy in the area. Her face now one of anger, she raised her pistol up towards the enraged reaper and fired several times. Salem, blade in hand, easily dispatched every single bullet before beginning his quick descent back to the ground.
Again, he felt the air shift. Looking behind him, the bullets his dear mother fired were beginning to stop themselves and follow him; telekinetic shells. He knew that if even one of them pierced his skin, the others would find their way into his fleshy prison as well. Grunting, he tightened his fist as he fell and raised it towards his chest. In that instant, the ground again cracked with fireceness only equal to an earthquake by Mother Nature herself…
“SCABRITHE!” Salem shouted with all his might, the ground now radiating a ghastly purple and red color. Dolores licked her lips.
“I have heard stories about this one, but to think you tamed it…!” Soon after her words and his, a rotting gigantic hang erupted from the crust, reaching out to catch the reaper from his death free fall. Without batting an eyelash, Dolores threw down her weapons and extended her arms towards the giant hole in the earth, her hands and fingers spread out. Quickly and softly, Dolores began to speak in a language that wasn’t Spanish nor English, and as she did, the rupture from the dead began to close. Watching from the air, Salem cursed under his breath as he recognized the words the Mother Esmeree was muttering. “Erit clausa” were the only two words he needed to understand.
Gripping his long sword cruelly in hand, he flung it towards Dolores with great speed and might, it in turn barely missing the acutely focused Dolores, again. Salem’s face was now one of concern mixed with horror. How was she so narrowly avoiding his attacks? Obviously, there was something that he didn’t know or account for, and it might be his downfall. The reaper plummeted to the ground as the seer forcefully closed the fissure in space with her nigh-unrivaled mental prowess, completely severing the giant’s hand in the process. Landing with a bone breaking thud, Salem screamed out in pain. It was a miracle he was still alive after a fall from such a height, but the worst of things was yet to come.
With blurry vision, he from the ground lie helpless as the severed gigantic hand began to fall on top of him. He felt a decaying, burning sensation on his body as a loud thud could be heard. Salem gasped for air, his ribs breaking, piercing through his own body. Sound left his ears as his vision began to blacken. Underneath the mass of flesh, tears swelled in his crushed eye, and blood out the other. He didn’t want things to end like this; it was barely a fight. He had to avenge himself, and everyone else his mother hurt, he couldn’t die like this… but there was nothing he could do about it.
Groggy moans escaped his lips as he desperately tried calling for help. In both broken voice and thought, he called for the only ones he could. He cried for the undead… who were too withered to aid him. He pleaded for Mikaela, who would most likely look down on him doing so, but nevertheless he attempted, and was met with fruitless efforts. As a last effort, he even tried to plead for the immortal wolf girl to aid him, or at the very least free him from his pain. No longer being able to produce sound from his mouth, he lay under the weight of the giant’s hand until it began to fade away, back into the realm from where it came.
His neck cracked as he slowly repositioned his head in the newly formed crater he was now in, coming eye to eye with an approaching Dolores. The woman effortlessly jumped down into the crater, landing softly as she did so, but not before hovering above him; a pointless display of cruel authority.
She landed in her heels with daint movement and crouched down beside her broken and bloodied son, a warm smile smooth on her face.
“It is time for your next lesson, dear,” Dolores explained to Salem. While he couldn’t hear it physically, Dolores ensured he could hear every one of her words mentally. His eye widened with grief as it echoed in his head, the words spoken right before she betrayed he and his father the first time all those years ago. Dolores reached out, placing a cold hand on his cheek as she drew herself closer. He closed his eye. “Salem, dear, look at mother.” Dolores softly demanded. He had little choice as he felt his eyelids being forced open. The seer raised an eyebrow, and at that, pain was felt as instantly, his eyelids were ripped from his face. “Better… is that not all better? Now I know my sweet little boy is paying attention to his mama.”
Leaning over to his forehead, Dolores gave Salem a small kiss before returning to her feet. With a single hand and some telekinesis, she raised Salem up off the ground, what remained of him falling off his form as he looked at the dark woman. The Esmeree lady widely extended both arms, Salem slowly drifting towards her embrace as she did so. He was given a warm, affectionate hug as he bled out, his streaks of red staining the attire of Dolores. In his head, he had an epiphany; that’s why she wore such vibrant colors, so the blood wouldn’t taint her fit.
Dolores kept her arms locked around her son in embrace for several minutes, leaving Salem in a state of pain and anxiety, before whispering in his head one final time.
“Remember that I love you, your father loved you, and we. Always. Will.”
What tears he had left fell from his face. Moments later, he felt the tendons in his body rip apart as Dolores used her strength to rip him into two. Both parts of him then lay on either side of the bloody woman, gore as far as the eye can see.
Salem was only conscious for mere moments, too far gone to be affected by his mother’s vile telepathy. For just a few moments, his thoughts were his own, and his own only.
‘Xia… it appears my song reached it’s conclusion far before yours.’
~ ~ ~
Salem opened his eyes, quickly sitting up in a cold sweat, streams of blue and red running down his cheek from his eyes. He wiped them away as he looked around himself. He was in the Purgatory District, near the graveyard he just recently built. His shirt was off and he was laying down on his blazer to rest for the night. He felt himself extremely weak... and extremely cold. The lone reaper sighed as he subconsciously rubbed his torso. "It was all a dream, huh..." Salem groggily stated to himself, yawning.
Looking towards the sky at the full moon, he began to lie back down on the cold ground, using his blazer to wrap around his bare form for warmth. As his eyes closed, he could hear the ever so faint laughter of his mother in the distance, leaving him perplexed on the status of his "dream", and semi-terrified of the things the lie in the night.
Further away, hidden in the cover of the trees under the moon, a hooded onlooker with sharp odd eyes smiled as they disappeared back into the flora.
"Sweet dreams, Salem."
